Page 57 of Revealing Fate

A monstrous bellow blasted the air of the arena. Day turned to night as the blackest shadow blocked the sun overhead. The ground quaked with the shadow’s impact, and Felíne’s eyes snapped open.

A colossal shurii male in second form landed in the arena and snatched the grimalkin out of the air. The shurii fisted the cat’s scruff with vicious claws, unhinged his monstrous jaw, and loosed a deafening roar in the grimalkin’s face. Spittle flew. Gleaming teeth bared. The male slammed the cat into the nearest boulder with staggering violence. The animal wailed. He slammed again. The boulder cracked. Once more, and the enormous male tossed the limp creature away like a soiled rag.

Felíne’s breath caught as the male turned his scorching attention on her. His eyes, solid gold like two priceless coins, ensnared her. His sleek, inky fur swallowed the light. The stiffly hackled ridge that traveled the length of his spine stood on end.

The crowd erupted into chaotic discord. People’s shouts echoed off the arena’s walls, reverberating through the forest, yet Felíne was enveloped in a cocoon of stunned silence.

The male took two steps toward her on heavy, padded feet, and she jerked her hatchet up on instinct. One backhanded swipe of his claws sent Daybreak whirling through the air in the opposite direction. Felíne yelped and clutched her hand, stumbling back.

The black monster reached for her. Felíne scrambled away.

“He’s taking the prisoner! Someone, stop him!”

“Alert the Conclave!”

“The trial is fixed! The prisoner’s escaping!”

Felíne tried to run, but there was nowhere to go. Every way she turned, she met angry yells, dead ends, and the black-pelted male. Arrows whistled by her ear and pierced the dirt, one narrowly missing the toe of her boot. A line of searing pain lanced her upper arm, and she hissed.

Behind her, the shurii male’s roar seemed to shake the stadium, and Felíne clapped her hands over her ears. Then, without warning, she was airborne.

“No!”

The male hoisted her off the ground and launched out of the pit, landing on the first platform. People screamed. First forms exploded into seconds. Felíne glimpsed an enraged blond man gripping an empty crossbow before the male carrying her climbed to the top row of seats, sank his claws into the wall’s edge, and jumped over. Felíne’s teeth clacked together as they landed, and a fresh wave of pain raked across her chest. She twisted back to see the arena, shurii flooding out of its walls, before they were swallowed by the tree line and the shadows of Stillwater Wood.

Felíne lost consciousness somewhere in the forest. Screaming hadn’t helped. Nor had kicking, punching, or biting. Her demands fell on deaf ears. Overcome with terror, assaulted by ineptitude, her conscious mind retreated into the safety of oblivion.

The scrape of claws on wood reached her wandering psyche, and her eyes flickered open. Felíne caught the flash of a vaguely familiar nameless black wolf through her swaying strands of knotted hair, before being hauled up several stairs, carted over a set of thresholds, and dumped unceremoniously onto an overlarge mattress.

The midnight male slammed the bedroom door behind him with enough force to rattle the wooden frame. Felíne jumped and scooted farther back on the bed. She glanced around for a weapon but found nothing within reach. The room…wait…she knew this room.

The beast fixed flawless golden eyes on her. Jaws parted, and a rich rumbling voice emerged. “If you had a death wish, you should have said so. I could have accommodated instead of wasting all of my godsdamned time and effort trying to keep you alive.”

Felíne’s jaw fell in her lap. “Kal?”

His chest rumbled with a growl. “Who the fuck are you?”

Felíne had spent untold hours fantasizing about Kal’s second form—what color his pelt would be, how tall he’d stand, if he’d be mesmerizing or terrifying in equal measure. He was more than anything her lackluster imagination could have conjured.

Kal’s silky black coat gleamed, a lustrous living shadow. He towered over any male she’d ever seen. Claws like unsheathed daggers tipped each long digit of his hands and the toes on his padded feet. His lips curled back over elongated, pointed teeth, strikingly white against his fur’s stygian hue. A strong, furred tail swished back and forth in agitation. Despite his menacing countenance, Felíne found herself inching closer.

Kal’s eyes imprisoned her. How many days had she gazed into their dark depths? How often had she floated on the surface of that churning obsidian sea and longed to reach for the flickering golden treasures that lay beneath? Felíne peered into those golden spheres, realizing the riches bared before her, finally within her reach.

She scooted to the edge of the mattress and eased to her feet. Kal’s breath came in great pulls, his chest heaving. His nostrils flared, eyes never leaving her face. Felíne raised a tentative hand.

Kal’s claws snapped out suddenly, breaking her thrall. A terrifying pressure circled the fragile column of Felíne’s throat. Kal backed her against the wall. “You don’t get to touch me,” he snarled. “You don’t get to look at me like that.” Warm breath gusted over her. “You fucking lied.”

“I’m sorry,” she gasped.

The pressure on her neck increased. “I don’t want your apology. I want the fucking truth.”

Felíne tried to shake her head, but his grip held her fast.

Kal growled again. “The only way I’m letting you out of this room is if you give me what I want.”

Felíne tried to swallow. It got stuck in Kal’s palm. “Please⁠—”

Kal lowered his muzzle to the side of Felíne’s face. He ran his nose along her jawline and over the shell of her ear in a long inhale. “Go ahead and beg, Kitty girl. Plead. Cry.” Felíne’s heart beat an erratic staccato. “It will make no difference.”